Love Me Just Enough
by korrc1
Summary: AU BB & HIMYM. Casey Bloom is looking for a way out of the eternal confidence game. Ted Mosby, watching his friends succeed where he has failed, is desperate to find "the one". A fluke encounter in Brooklyn might be their chance. TedxOFC, un-betaed.
1. Chapter 1

_Marry me a little, love me just enough/Cry but not too often, play but not too rough/Keep a tender distance so we'll both be free/That's the way it ought to be..._

_~Marry Me A Little from Company by Stephen Sondheim _

At some point she really needed to figure out the leaving thing. She had done it enough that by now it was second nature, yet every single time it hurt like hell. Casey Bloom knew that it shouldn't hurt her, that it was the mark of a terrible con person when you started feeling bad for the people you were conning, but she couldn't help it. Every single time she played a part, befriended a person with ulterior motives in mind, she left a small part of herself behind.

She looked up at the apartment she was descending from. In a couple of hours, the man living there would wake up with no memory of the previous night and blame it on the booze he had consumed. If she was lucky, he wouldn't remember she had been there at all, and he would blame his somewhat lighter wallet on a drinking binge. If she wasn't, he might report something to the cops and the word would get around about a thief playing Brooklyn. Then, she would have to lay low for a little bit with her uncle. That was a worst case scenario, naturally, but Bloom usually didn't mind as long as she gave him a little warning.

Casey touched down on the pavement gently from the fire escape. Slowly, she began to walk away into the Brooklyn lights, not looking back behind her. She never looked back while walking away from a job if she could help it, choosing to reconsider things in the safety of her apartment where she couldn't be judged by the rest of the world. It was just safer that way.

That simple refrain, her daily mantra, was depressing. It was her excuse for never calling back the men she actually tried to date occasionally, choosing the safety of secrecy over opening up to someone. It was for the best, she told herself. After all, if she opened up, she ran the risk of being arrested. She had conned enough men and done enough jobs over the years that she knew NYPD had to be looking for her on some level. For all she knew, the Feds were on her trail. All right, that was a little self-centered, but still.

Sometimes, when it was dark outside and she sat on the roof watching the stars from the roof of her apartment, she would let herself dream for a few minutes of a man who would love her just enough to make her feel appreciated. Love her in a way that she wouldn't feel alone again, and yet she would feel as free as ever. She wasn't looking for a permanent settlement, for a happy ever after that everyone else was chasing after. She was looking for someone who was just as scared of commitment as she was, someone to take the leap with. And for a few minutes, she could truly believe that there was a man out there, somewhere in the bright lights and the chaos of New York that could give her just enough of what she needed.

But inevitably, she would wake up from that dream and accept it. Accept that her lot in life, her guaranteed lot in life was one of loneliness. She'd chosen the life of a conman, although to an extent she figured it had chosen her. After all, with a father like hers...well, what other option did she have, once she knew? Bloom was worried for her, concerned that she was going down a road he had barely pulled off from. She tried to convince him she was fine, giving him one of her trademark grins and blowing it off as just the jealousy of an ex-con at a current con in the height of the ultimate game. But part of her was jealous right back at him, jealous of his perfect life with his gorgeous wife Penelope and their two kids in a house outside of the city with a goddamn front lawn and the azaleas he was always bragging about. What would she give for a life like that, for a life without the lies? A large part of her really didn't want to answer that question as she wandered the Brooklyn streets...

23######

Somehow, Ted Mosby found himself in Brooklyn. He really wasn't sure how he had pulled that off, and if he was being honest he didn't give a damn. Things couldn't possibly get any worse than he felt at the moment. Once again, everything was changing for his group of friends. Barney and Robin, three weeks after getting back together as a couple, had just announced their engagement. Lilly and Marshall were thrilled, of course. Any other night Ted would have been thrilled too. But he had just gone through another nasty breakup with another girlfriend, making his dream of settling down that much farther away from reality. In the beginning of his time in New York, he had been so optimistic that he would find the one, get married, and design half a dozen buildings. So far, he was one-half for three. Granted, he had landed on the cover of a major architecture magazine. But he felt like he was spinning in second gear, watching all of his friends go flying ahead of him down the road towards the finish line. Hell, _Barney _was getting married.

Maybe it was the celebratory champagne that they had consumed at Maclaren's. Maybe it was his frustration at the universe and his miniscule place therein. Whatever the reason, Ted wasn't paying attention to his surroundings. When the man with a hood jumped in front of him and pointed a gun at him demanding his wallet, Ted froze up. This really could not be happening to him, he decided. Maybe it was a bad dream.

Obviously, his hesitation didn't help things. The man with the gun, desperation written in his face, started yelling and waving the gun around. Ted reached into his pocket for his wallet, only to spook his assailant, who clearly thought he was going for a gun. Things were close to disastrous, and Ted was out of ideas.

The man whacked him hard upside the head. As Ted slid into unconsciousness, he swore he heard someone yell something. But it was so far off, he couldn't make any sense of it. Damn, his head hurt...

When he came to a few minutes later, a woman was bandaging his head injury. Ted tried to sit up, only to have his body reject that idea. "Calm down, buddy," the woman said quickly, seeing his movement. "You might have a concussion here. Take it slow, all right?" Ted tried to mumble something, and she laughed. It was a nice laugh, his subconscious decided. It sounded pretty and genuine.

"Where...am I?" he said finally. The woman looked him over one last time as she tied the final bandage, then stepped into the streetlight. Ted looked at her and felt something twinge in his body. She was strikingly beautiful with short black hair and a thin face. She wore red Nike high-tops, and had on jeans and a basic stripped t-shirt that was slightly stained with blood. His blood, Ted realized, and he groaned again. The woman sat down next to him quickly.

"You're in Brooklyn, pal." she told him. "Little Poland, to be exact. Beautiful little neighborhood, _ja?_" Ted made a face, and she gently touched his forehead. "Maybe you should get this checked out. The guy hit you pretty hard."

"Why did you help me?" Ted asked, confused. "I mean, who gets involved with a mugging?"

For a moment, his mysterious rescuer was silent. Then, she looked at him with big green eyes. "Let's just say I needed to clear my karmic slate, if you will." Quietly, she looked at her watch. "Damn, it's late. You want me to call you a cab?"

Ted shook his head, wincing at the pain. "I'll call a friend of mine," he told her. "But thank you...what was your name?"

Their eyes met, and Ted felt something strange and exciting, like a spark that he had missed for a while. "Casey Bloom," she told him finally. "What's yours, Manhattan?"

How she knew what borough he was from, Ted didn't know. Part of him really wanted to ask, but a larger part was more concerned with his head. "Ted Mosby," he told her. "Thank you for helping me out, Casey."

She smiled at him quietly. Then, she turned to leave. Quietly, she looked at him one more time. "Keep your eyes open, Mosby. You never know what might happen out here," Within seconds, she was gone.

Ted sighed and called Marshall, praying he would pick up even though it was 2 AM. It had really been a long night...


	2. Of Close Calls and Hightops

A/N: Hi all. If you're reading this, you've (hopefully) read the first chapter and liked it enough to give the second chapter a try. As a result, I figure that I might as well explain a few things in case they are not particularly clear.

First off, this is an AU for BB because it's not particularly clear what time period the movie was set in. As a result, I'm making the distinct decision that the events of the movie happened sometime in the late 1990's. This story is set in roughly 2012, which again is flexible because Barney's wedding does not have a specific date either. There will be other AU aspects, but those are the immediate ones that I felt needed confronting.

The basic backstory here is that Bloom and Penelope have moved to New York City in an attempt to reconnect with Casey, the niece Bloom had no idea existed until Stephen told him in his final living moments. A rough guess is that Casey is in her late 20's, possibly 30.

If something is _Italicized_, it's song lyrics or thoughts (the circumstance will determine which). If it's **Bold**, it's a flashback of some sort. The numbers will be explained later on. Feel free to review; I do appreciate the help, since I do not have a beta. If you have any questions, leave a review and I'll try to address them at the beginning of the next chapter. Thanks!

_Marry me a little/Do it with a will/Make a few demands/I'm able to fulfill/Want me more than others/Not exclusively/That's the way it ought to be. _

~Marry Me A Little, From _Company _by Stephen Sondheim

23 ############

**It was a striking memory, one that stood out from the rest of her childhood. It was her 16th birthday, November 23rd. She was playing in the yard when the car pulled up to the house. She was focused on catching the gorgeous butterfly for her collection, so much so that she didn't hear the doorbell ring, or hear the door open to admit the unexpected guests. What she did hear was her mother's scream of agony, begging God in Polish that it wasn't the truth. She ran in the house and stared at the men in the doorway, men who had apparently brought impossible news. That was how she had learned her father was dead. **

**It never really hit her the way it was supposed to. She had barely known him, after all. He would stop in every once in a while for a couple days, teaching her little tricks and playing make believe with her. At night, he would tell her the most amazing stories, and she loved him for that, at least. But in the morning, more often than not, he would be gone. She never understood why Stephen Bloom bothered coming back to the 'family' that he could have had if he gave up the life. She never asked him, focused on just seeing him again and not on the harsh fact that he would have to leave again, leave and never look back. **

**Then he was dead. And while Leopold, his younger brother, tried to connect with her, it was difficult. Hell, he hadn't known she existed apparently until her father had begged him to keep an eye on her while he was dying. Not her mother, the woman he had gotten pregnant and then left behind when the game began again; no, Stephen Bloom was focused on his daughter, Casey. And something about that drove her crazy. She tried to explore his rationality for giving a damn about one and not the other, but failed. Even after she joined the profession of confidence gaming that her father had revolutionized, she couldn't begin to explain it. And she had a feeling that she never would be able to...**

Casey rang the doorbell, and quietly shifted from foot to foot as she waited for her aunt Penelope. She had promised she would stop by today and check in, something Bloom had extracted from her after she unintentionally made the news show for Metro News 1 hosted by one Robin Scherbatsky. Apparently the last man she had conned had friends in high places, high enough that it only took him a couple days to get the word out. It was a good thing she had worn the red wig after all.

She heard loud rushing footsteps coming down the hallway, followed by a yell of "Casey's here!" Smiling, Casey grinned as Emily and Helen opened the door and ran to her for a hug. While there were many things in life she was not thrilled about, the twins were definitely not one of them. They were absolutely adorable at 9 years old with their curiosity and their enthusiasm about everything. There was very little that they wouldn't try at least once.

Following behind the twins was Casey's mysterious uncle. While he didn't talk a lot about his past with her father, Leopold Bloom cared dearly for his niece and did his best to support her when she needed the help. He figured that it was the least he could do with his financial earnings from years of less than legal activities. Casey looked up, and Bloom gave her an eyebrow raise. Silently, she sighed. Clearly, it was no good pretending this was a normal visit. He wanted to talk about what happened.

Bloom chased the twins away and then pointed Casey to the study where the tea things were already set up. He looked her over as she poured the tea for both of them with a steady hand. Obviously the close call had not affected her nerves as much as it used to affect him. Either that, or she was getting really good at hiding it. She was turning out to be quite the con artist, something he wasn't sure he could be proud of. "What happened?" he asked when she had leaned back in the chair with a full mug of tea.

Casey sighed. "I'm not really sure, to be honest," she explained. "Either the mark had a hell of a good memory or he wasn't as drunk as I figured him to be. Doesn't matter either way, really. I torched the wig this morning, so the red head he described is long gone. He gave them the wrong name, also. Kathy, I believe it was." She looked up at her uncle and gave him a loose smile. "I'm going to lay low for a while; it was a good payout, and I took care of rent already for the month. I'm not really worried." A silent voice in her head whispered _Not about that, anyways. _

The worrying thing for Casey was Ted Mosby. It hadn't occurred to her until aftershe had left him in Brooklyn waiting for his friends how extremely stupid she had been for giving him her real name. It was a rookie mistake, something that she was positive her father would never have done. After all, if the police ever got any closer to her than they were, and they went asking around...well, it was a seriously loose end for her, and that was extremely troubling.

But at the same time, she had no idea what to do about it. She couldn't kill him; that was one thing no con man did, unless the circumstances were unavoidable. The 'rules' that she had learned from a thick blue book her father had left behind made that part perfectly clear. And she wasn't about to leave New York, a city she had lived in almost her entire life and that she knew like the back of her hand. It created a Catch-22 of sorts; if he went looking for her, and asked around, the word would get out. But if she confronted him and told him to forget her, he might very well become suspicious. Honestly, Casey was more lost than she had ever been, and she didn't like it one bit. Because something about Ted-something that she couldn't quite put a finger on just yet-had just feltright. Like he was someone she could trust with anything. It was a connection she had never experienced before with a complete stranger, and it scared her.

Bloom cleared his throat, noticing Casey's distraction. She looked up, startled. "Sorry," she told him, "I'm all over the place today." She silently prayed he would take it at face value and not go digging any deeper.

Bloom smiled, taking the distraction in stride. Whatever was on Casey's mind, she would talk about it eventually. "It's fine," he said. "I don't blame you. That was a close call there."

Casey nodded, glad for once he couldn't read her mind. The last thing she needed was to explain her new found reactionary feelings towards a stranger she had just met and odds are would never see again.

42##########

Ted Mosby woke up in a hospital bed and immediately panicked. He had done this a couple times before, and none of those experiences had been particularly enjoyable. His head was throbbing again, and he hesitantly reached a hand upwards. He felt a tightly wrapped bandage, and the contact made his head pound with excruciating ferocity.

Images from the night before came together like a jigsaw puzzle. Robin and Barney beaming, champagne, Chinatown, the Brooklyn bridge, a gun pointed at his head...and red high tops. Ted was puzzling his way through it all when the entire gang burst into his room, concern written on their faces.

"Ted, what the hell were you thinking!" Lilly asked, anger and hysteria in her voice. "We were so worried about you! And when you called at 2 AM, saying you were lost somewhere in Brooklyn..."

Ted frowned. "What?" he asked, still not clear on what had happened to him.

Marshall looked at him, seeing his sheer confusion. "This happens, you know," he explained. "Sometimes people with concussions can't remember what happened for a period before and after their injury." He sat down at the chair next to the bed. "What do you remember, Ted? Anything?"

Ted wracked his brain, desperate for any sort of detail. Again, the red high tops swam into his vision. "Um...nothing, really" he lied, hoping Marshall wouldn't be able to tell. "I mean, I remember walking in Brooklyn, but I don't know how I got there or why."

From further away, Barney sighed. Ted looked over at him. "Well dude, we went out to dinner in Chinatown after we left Maclaren's," Barney began to explain. "And then you just took off from the restaurant with no warning. One minute, we were celebrating and then the next..."

As Barney's sentence drifted off, Ted remembered a piece of the puzzle. Right; Barney and Robin had made a huge announcement...what was it? Whatever it was, somehow it had set him off because...because of something. It was so close, but he couldn't quite get there. "Really?" he asked. "I must have needed some air and then just completely lost track of time. Sorry to scare you guys." He looked apologetically at them. Lilly wasn't buying it, obviously. Ted looked into her green eyes and...

**She had such big green eyes, it was hard not to feel overwhelmed by them. "Let's just say I needed to clear my karmic slate, if you will." While he didn't understand what she was talking about, her sincerity was striking. **

"Ted!" This time, it was Robin trying to get his attention. Ted snapped back to reality.

"What?" he demanded, still half-caught in the realization that the red high-tops he couldn't get out of his head belonged to some woman with green eyes and a newly clear karmic slate who was clearly somewhere in Brooklyn.

"What was that?" Robin asked. "You just sort of...well, you almost dozed off a little. It was really weird. Are you okay?"

Ted was mentally debating whether or not to tell them about the strange memory. In the end, he figured there was no harm. "I was just remembering," he explained. "I...I think I met this woman last night. I feel like she rescued me from a mugging..."

In the end, they didn't completely believe him; he could see it in their glances to each other when they thought he wasn't watching. And Ted couldn't blame them. Even he wasn't positive that he hadn't hallucinated her. Hell, he couldn't remember her name. All he was sure about was those eyes.

Finally, a nurse came in telling them that visiting hours were over. None of them resisted, which Ted appreciated; he was beginning to feel his headache now, and part of him just wanted to curl up and sleep. Barney squeezed his hand, giving him a smile and promising to check in tomorrow. The others followed suit, and slowly his hospital room cleared again. Ted drifted off to sleep with little effort, dreaming about red high tops and goats...


End file.
